Stuck In A Moment
by Hayla
Summary: When everything comes to its inevitable end, sometimes dreams do come true.


Disclaimer: Yeah... I might just own something in this story that would make me a profit! But, everything belongs to their creators. Thanks for letting me mess around with the idea!

Note: Opening lyrics are from the best band in the world, **U2**. The song is off of their brand new album, **_All That You Can't Leave Behind_**, which came out on October 31, 2000!! Check it out! It's classic! ~3 

This was just a short, little idea that sprang into my head during the middle of an Art Appreciation lecture. Needless to say, I was distracted for the rest of the class! Please review! I would love to hear what everyone thinks! (Hey Ice... 9 more to go!)

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Stuck In A Moment

by: Hayla

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"I will not forsake, the colours that you bring

But the nights you filled with fireworks

They left you with nothing

I am still enchanted by the light you brought to me

I still listen through your ears, and through your eyes I can see"

~

She looked reminiscently at her reflection in the mirror, remembering how she used to be -- how everything used to be so very different. She pulled the brush through her almost waist length hair, tugging lightly at the knots that were forming at the base of her neck, pulling them free, then continuing down the locks. For the most part, it was thick and smooth, slipping through her fingers and cascading gentle over her shoulders. The rich dark colour had long since faded away, leaving snow-white tresses wisped slightly with silver strands that framed her weary face.

She placed the brush meticulously down on the dresser, letting her finger trace absently over the white ivory surface of the brush and matching comb that laid carefully beside it. They were both beaded delicately with pink and violet shapes that formed roses and other such flowers. The set had been a gift a long time ago from a face that she could barely recall. It was like so many things in her life at that moment. Memories -- faint ghosts of gray, blurred figures that stood in a world fading just as quickly as nightmares when faced with the threat of day.

Instinctively, she reached for a small orange bottle that stood next to a glass filled with clear liquid. With a simple twist, she opened the container, emptying out two small white pills into the palm. She stared at the tiny pallid circles that rested in her hand, debating to herself whether or not she should really take them. Were they doing any good? Or was the real question, did it matter anymore...

She returned the bottle next to other medications that lined the side of her dresser. Reaching for the water, she emptied the glass, washing the medicine quickly away with no further protest. She set the cup down, wiping away a small droplet that balanced precariously at the corner of her age worn mouth.

She stared again into the reflection that danced mockingly in the form of a tired old woman in front of her. Her once bright eyes had turned a dull hazel, sinking heavily into the folds of flesh that were the trademark ambassadors of age. Her face sagged with weariness, brow furrowed from habit and the force of squinting to see the reflection. Her tired eyes traced the rest of her form that was visible in the oval circle, noticing her thin arms and bony shoulders that were half revealed through a worn white shift. She sighed deeply, hearing her own lungs rattle with the force of breath. She was tired, so tired. 

"How long has it been?" she asked her mirrored self, her voice seemingly unused and raspy in the silence of the room. She closed her eyes, furrowing her wrinkled brow in deep concentration, trying to remember the once sacred words. "I need you," she whispered.

There was a sudden gust of wind that whipped through the room, startling her. She jumped back against the dresser in surprise, causing the lamp to fall unto the carpeted floor. It landed with a soft thud, the light suddenly blackened. She retrieved the fallen article, cursing her foolishness and replaced it to it's former home. What was she expecting, something to actually happen? Someone to come for her? It was foolish really -- a childish act that she should have overcome many, many years ago.

Her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness rather quickly, the crescent moon casting its white glow into her stark surroundings. She drew her arms around her thin frame, pulling her nightgown closer to her body as she moved towards the open window. 

The crisp night breeze gently danced with the long veils of sheer curtains that graced her window, billowing the semi transparent fabric around her sullen form, then falling ever so quietly back. She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of the night -- the dark richness that always had a calming effect on her in ways that she could never explain.

An owl crooned a sorrowful call.

A smile traced her cracked lips and she looked out into the night. The stars were shining brightly, seeming only to heighten the glowing mystery of the moon. She looked deeper into the night, searching the gnarled oak tree that stood like a sentry outside her second story window.

"Where is my white knight?" she mused playfully as she searched the branches and limbs until she found the creature of mention. It had long since been her only companion. She vaguely recollected seeing a bird of similar fancy when she was younger, but that was so long ago. Another lifetime even...

"There you are my night watcher." It ruffled its feathered form, as if in response to her gentle calling, and moved slightly closer. It's eyes, huge and glimmering with unbridled curiosity, studied her closely. It sent a chill through her body, as if the bird knew her to the very core. "Always there..." her voice trailed off as old memories began to resurface. 

Ever since her and Nathan had moved into the house, she had always seen the bird. Only at night did it honour her with its presence. The white owl, whose wings were dusted with the lightest of brown sugar colour, disappeared vampirically when day broke. Nathan had pleaded with her to allow him to tear down the hallowed oak, but she could not part with it or its inhabitant. The creature of the night, she argued, had just as much a right to a home as they did. He would always smile when she said this, amused by her gentle and caring nature for even the smallest of beasts. It was that character, he confessed on numerous occasions, which charmed him to marry her in the first place.

She could almost hear his light laughter now as it wafted up from the kitchen downstairs. He was a pure and utter disaster when it came to cooking, but that never stopped him from trying to surprise her with an anniversary dinner or breakfast in bed. She would always scold him for burning the pots or, on quite a few occasions, starting a small fire on the stove. He would merely laugh, making light of the entire situation, wrap her in his arms, then suggest that they go out to eat instead. That's how things went...

She had loved him, as she had loved very few men in her lifetime, but something had always been missing. There was an ever-present void in her soul that, while remaining dormant for many years, could rip to the surface of her being with brutal force, leaving her with overwhelming emptiness. Nathan had covered her gaping wound for the short time that they had spent together. He had given her a son... a beautiful boy that could challenge the mythological gods that she read about in books with wit and courage.

She named him Toby, after an uncle that he would never meet -- one who was killed tragically in a vehicle accident only a year before his nephew's birth. He was so young -- only fourteen years had graced his life when the alcoholically impaired driver swerved around the corner, not even noticing that the road he was driving on was now a sidewalk. The death had torn her fragile family's bonds to the very core. But now that there was a new member to their extended family, the healing could begin, perhaps set things right.

And it worked for awhile. Toby grew up strong, with a wild imagination, which he had credited to his mother. When he was young, she used to tell him stories of a far off place, with a wickedly handsome king who ruled over a land filled with fantastical creatures and magical adventures. She could conjure up the images of the land with such detail, Toby believed that, indeed, such a place must surely have existed. She would laugh, and tell him that she had seen the place, when she was very young, in a dream. A beautiful faerie tale, but it was nothing more than a dream. 

She believed that with her whole heart now -- that those tales were just dreams of a lonely childhood. There were times when she would call out in the night for her long lost companions... but nothing would happen. She was still alone, and her heart ached. It had all been a dream that she had dutifully sacrificed with years and maturity. She blamed all her supposed memories of the Goblin City to her overactive imagination and fascination with acting out roles in her favorite plays. How else could she possibly explain and forget the friends that she had made, and the feelings that she had known. She could not waste her love for an imaginary king and a mystical existence. She had a life to live.

And life went on whether or not she wanted it to. When Toby told her and Nathan that he was moving to Australia where a promising career was waiting for him, she had cried. She could feel her fragile happiness slipping away. He was still young, barely out of college where he had graduated with honours. He kept telling her that he would be fine, that it was necessary to let go. 

She tried to be strong, playing the devoted role of the mother, smiling cheerful and embracing him before he headed off to the airport. How fragile her courage was though. She couldn't remember when she had lost her strength. But as she broke down into Nathan's arms when they learned that flight 486 had crashed only moments after take off, she knew she had lost it hopelessly somewhere along the way. It was odd, she thought, that at that moment, she was only concerned with her own fallibility. 

She was not the same person as she was at youth. Tragedy had touched her life once too often. The death of her only child was a chilling reawakening to something desperately missing in her life. The proverbial void had returned with it's clever lies, telling her that there was something in her life that she had given up long ago and could never get back, no matter how she tried to change things.

Nathan left her a year after Toby's death. He could no longer stand her self-loathing nature, knowing that he could do nothing to help her. He had known all along that there was something missing in their relationship. While he knew that he loved her with all his heart, he was never sure if that feeling was a mutual affair, or a one sided obsession. When his only son died, he noticed all too clearly that their happy little life had been an illusion, covering up a deceitful heart.

He did not blame her fully. He knew that he took some blame for getting trapped within the haunting fantasy of love and family. But he also knew that their devotion had survived with a commitment to their son, and whether he had lived or not, things would have eventually changed for the both of them. 

Everything that was supposed to make a person happy had been taken away. She had let Nathan go, his words ringing an all too familiar chord within her own heart. They would talk from time to time, and there still was a love there, but not the kind you read in bed time stories where there is always a happily ever after. Those endings were reserved for the truly fantastical and enchanting lives that she knew could not exist for her.

Drawing herself back to the present, she shook her head of the memories, feeling once again the cool breeze on her chilled flesh. This was real. This was what was visceral. She was living in this life that had dealt her an uneven hand. It was getting late... 

"Goodnight," she whispered to her feathered sentinel before closing the window. She padded softly over to her vacant bed, slowly turning down the satin sheets, and slipping easily into the warmth. She rested her head against the down pillow, a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. She knew that she had felt love before -- a passionate kind that sent her knees shaking and her heart beating wildly. But where... she had forgotten the incantations that had once led her to adventure, life, and love. Had they ever really existed to begin with?

Her mind reeled as she closed her eyes to the consuming darkness that had been waiting for her, the one that she could no longer fight. She could feel its weight against her, slowly numbing her existence, forcing out the very air in her lungs.

_A name..._ she thought through her dreary haze. _What was the name?_ She could hear it in her soul, the name that she had forced herself to forget long ago when the fancies of youth had given way to the harsh realities of adulthood. She unconsciously called out for him, her mind letting something else take over, something that went beyond common or even practical sense.

There was silence in the room before the window curiously opened of its own volition. Perhaps it was the wind... perhaps it was something far more important.

The snow feathered owl leaped lightly unto the window frame, head bent curiously to one side as if waiting for permission to continue in further. It watched the troubled form curiously. It, too, seemingly entranced by something beyond reason. 

"Jareth..." she whispered in her profound sleep, her failing mind not aware of what her heart had called. She sighed one last time, the sweet air rushing out in one final plea.

There was a warm glow in the room and a tall figure stepped from the shadows. He passed silently to the head of the bed, thick garments brushing the very edge. Lovingly, he brushed away a strand of white from the peaceful face.

"Sarah," he whispered gently. "My sweet Sarah."

Her body stirred, eyes fluttering open to stare at the man who stood before her. Her eyes passed over his shimmering white cape and princely clothes, to his hair, beautifully wild around his prominent face. His eyes stared intently at her, as if expectant in her studies.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, a weight being lift from her mind. "I knew that you were more than a dream."

"Perhaps," he said lightly, smoothing back her hair, and letting a finger trace her wrinkled face, still beautiful despite age. "Maybe so much more than a dream."

"It's been so very long," she said sleepily, her eyes fighting to stay open a little while longer, not wanting this waking dream to be stolen from her like so much else had been in her life. Her face turned serious and she felt shamed. "I had forgotten you."

His voice was calm and gentle. "No, you never forgot, merely set aside." He reached down and touched her hand, picking it up delicately, as if he were afraid of hurting her, and placing it on her heart. "I have lived in here, waiting for you to come to me once again."

"Even now," she asked turning her head aside in exhaustion. "I'm too old."

The thought struck her suddenly when she realized what she said was so very untrue. What were a few years when faced with the prospect of eternal agelessness. She turned back to see him smiling.

"Will you come with me now?" In his voice there was no malice, only an apparent affection that had only grown deeper with time. "Every moment of your life, I have waited for you. I have seen what sorrows you have seen, known that pain of losing those you love." He paused suddenly, for the first time words failed him.. "I can not... can not lose you."

He stretched out a hand to her, the deepest emotion in his eyes, the purest entreaty in his voice. This was what she had wanted all along, for that endless void to be filled with something so pure and true. He was what she had been missing all along. And now that, in a very real way, her life passed before her eyes, she saw things in a new light. There was a purpose to everything, she only regretted that it had taken her a lifetime to realize it all.

She reached for his hand, holding it tightly, afraid that this vision would leave her grasping alone in the dark, too. She got up from her bed, letting herself be guided to the window that no longer viewed an old oak, but rather a shimmering portal. Vaguely, she could see an all too familiar land far beyond.

She looked back to Jareth as he lead her away from her mere mortal world. Her white knight, she thought suddenly. Her night watcher who had seen her fail to change the world, but cared for her none the less. She felt differently. Her soul had been released in a sense and she felt... she felt... hope. Things were changing for her now, back to the way they should have been.

Holding a steady gaze to the fantastical king, she stepped through the portal, bringing with her no regrets, only a promise. A promise made long ago, to give love, and be loved in return.

The two figures stepped into the shimmering threshold. Before it closed, one could glimpse the Goblin King escorting a beautiful young maiden, with raven dark hair and an untouchable spirit, to a kingdom beyond that of a mere earthly world. Taking her to a place that would forever be stuck in a moment of perfection, and if the fates would have their way, happiness.

In a few days, a neighbor would knock on the door to Sarah William's home, curious about the pile of newspapers that had not been collected. Soon the police would be called... then a hearse. They would call her ex-husband, let him know of the news and what arrangements had to be made since he was the only next of kin. When asked, they would tell him that she had died in her sleep, that her breath had just failed her, when in all truth, it had been taken away.

When Sarah agreed to join Jareth, she left behind her human, flawed self. She had chosen instead to bare a new life and set herself free, to a place where faerie tales come true, and the imagination would always be received with open arms and a knowing embrace. 

~end

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